I know you are all anxiously awaiting for Part II of my Kenneth Jay Lane interview (you can read Part I here). So am I. But we will all have to wait another week for that masterpiece…because my life got in the way. I have been beating myself up about this, until a friend convinced me (with some tough love) that I should just come clean with you.
I am in the process of moving. I have been packing, moving, organizing and stressing over the past few weeks and have not been able to devote the time and energy to this blog that I usually do, and certainly not the amount that I want in order to write about my fascinating conversation with Mr. Lane. I hold myself, and this blog, to a very high standard and I am simply unwilling to compromise that. So I am not going to rush it, I will take my time to deliver you what I always strive for: creative, original and engaging content.
So this week I am going to share a different type of “adventure” with you. It’s moving in Boston. It’s a scary and anxiety-producing process that millions of people experience, but one that I did not fully appreciate until the last several weeks.
All my previous apartment hunts have been in Manhattan, where (for better or worse) you can see dozens of places one day and move into one the next. In Boston, the prices are comparable to rents in The City, but the inventory is not. Most leases are up in September (thanks to all those darn students) so searching in February means few options and a lot of competition. Factor in a condensed moving timeline (just five weeks) and its a recipe for one stressed-out lady. For weeks I scoured the internet for leads and by the time I called, the apartment (which wasn’t all that amazing to begin with) was inevitably “just rented.” It reminded me of whale watching: a whale is “spotted” so you run to the bow of the boat, just to be told that that you “just missed it.” Was it ever really there?
My search was punctuated by late-night anxious phone calls to friends and family, tears, one near rental of the type of trendy hovel now described as “micro apartments” that are invading Boston and New York (I like to be efficient, just not if it means living in less than 300 sq. ft.) and one emotional fender bender during which my victim inquired if I was a sleep-deprived new mother BECAUSE THAT IS HOW INSANE I MUST HAVE APPEARED. Seriously, that happened. While desperately searching for a sliver lining to this chaotic process, I did realize that I’m just one apartment hunt shy of my goal weight, so at least there’s that.
While my past adventures documented here have helped me become more comfortable with trying new things without fear of failure, my moving experience showed me that I’m still not very good at asking for help. I seem to think I should be able to do everything on my own. While that is a great quality for an independent woman like me to possess, I need to know how, and when, to wave the white flag and call in reinforcements. I am always willing to help my friends with anything at the drop of a hat; I have to allow them to do the same for me.
I did get better at accepting assistance by the time it came to carrying boxes (and more trash bags full of clothes than I care to admit) up three flights of stairs to my new place. And as it turned out, my friends were essential to guard my upholstered chair on a Beacon Hill curb when passersby started circling like vultures, thinking my possessions were out there for the taking. I even had to chase one woman down the street after she swiped a framed print of mine, claiming she thought it was trash.
I am physically moving over two weekends, so I’m smack-dab in the middle of that process right now. I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. I’m emerging from my stress spiral and starting to get excited about this next chapter in my cute new place. This will be the first time I have ever lived alone, so that will bring with it a host of new experiences and emotions. Best of all, I will be decorating the space exactly how I like. I plan to bring you along on that adventure; In the coming weeks I will be spending time with an interior designer and taking the lessons I learn and applying them to my space, so stay tuned for those posts.
It has been a very stressful time, but with a little help from my friends (and the Beatles) I am almost done, and I will be able to bring you a thoughtful, high quality post about the fabulous Kenneth Jay Lane next week.